If only

[Tatsuro Kiuchi, Car Free via 20x200]

Summer in the city of London

I feel like I was incredibly productive this morning.

Sure I slept in then lounged around in my pj's reading, munching muesli and watching the latest season of How I Met Your Mother.

But! I also bought tickets to see Arcade Fire, Mumford and Sons, Beirut and The Vaccines in Hyde Park. I think I just might squeal.

[image via: The Fox is Black]

[image via: Iris Azadi]

[Beirut]

[The Vaccines]

Yup, I think I will squeal.

An unbroken series of events

[images via: From me to you]

After he had a look at us he said: "Mortmain, your women are spectacular."

"I'm not," I said.

"Ah, but you're the insidious type - Jane Eyre with a touch of Becky Sharp. A throughly dangerous girl."

I Capture the Castle, Dodie Smith

I feel like I'm still on a winning streak with the books I've been reading this summer. I'm almost holding my breath that I don't jinx myself and read a dud. Though saying that I'm almost certain that the books at the top of my pile to read are going to be winners - The Corrections and Nourishment.

I'm also peachy keen to sink my teeth into the next bookclub book: Eating Animals by Jonathan Safran Foer.

Jitterbug

Last night Mish, E.J. and I decided to go jitterbugging - unfortunately it seems like a bunch of other people did too, so we missed out on door tickets to Mojo Juju & The Snake Oil Merchants.

[mojo juju & the snake oil merchants]

Though I shouldn't have been surprised, as they had the most poetic gig blurb ever written:

THE JITTERBUG CLUB
A Bastard contemporary Harlem jazz club.
Plenty of Hoochie and Loads more coochie.
It creeps out like a shadow, Jumps and Jives like New York 1933, and then it wails like nothin' you ever heard before.
This ain't nostalgia folks, its sophisticated pandemonium.
Its dressed to the nines and keepin' in step.

I'm definitely going to be a tad bit more organised for the next Jitterbug club event.

However as that said, when a door closes, a window opens - or in our case a corridor. Cocktails, a mezze plate, an awesome indie soundtrack and ruby red lipstick made the weekend feel like a mini holiday.

A night of thrills and chills

I saw Sufjan Stevens and his ten strong band the other night - oh me, oh my - the boy has changed since I caught him three years ago. Gone were the wings, the banjo, the hula hoops, the rambling banter, the folk and the tears (my tear ducts exploded with joy). This was a completely different ride.

Owen Pallett (formally Final Fantasy) opened the show. If you listen to him with your eyes closed you would swear that an orchestra would be playing, yet it’s just one man, a violin, a keyboard and a loop pedal. I won’t even bother describing how utterly beautiful his music is – just watch this (the sound quality is a bit iffy, but the atmosphere is sublime) and have a listen to this.

[Owen Pallett]

Then it was Sufjan’s turn. The Age of Adz show was like a sci-fi synth fused slow jam, lit by neon tape and glow sticks. The music was surreal, confusing, lengthy, bizarre, layered, luscious, chaotic, dark, moody and I found it impossible to sit still. I shifted and wiggled in my seat, desperate to dance, particularly when the balloons and confetti burst from the Opera House’s ceiling during the epically long song “Impossible soul”.

Cartoon magic

Whilst I was slumbering the morning away, my cartoon self was galavanting about the place on TV. Yup, my brother's video clip was played on RAGE this morning! Snaps to him.

Just in case you weren't watching RAGE between 9 and 9:30am this morning, you check it out now.

Australia Day

Australia Day is by far my favourite holiday; it leaves Christmas and New Year's for dust. This year was no different.

I would be more than happy to hang out with my mates poolside, eating lamingtons and guessing what song will be

number one in the hottest 100, but to get paid for it just puts icing on the cake.

There are so many reasons why I get misty eyed over how gorgeous this sunburnt country is, but it is much nicer (ie.

eloquent) just to read this poem by Henry Lawson.

[image via: State Library of Queensland]

Contemplation

'Contemplation seems to be about the only luxury that costs nothing.'

I Capture the Castle, Dodie Smith

[image via: fashion gone rogue]

Mad for Mad Men

I'm going to a Mad Men party soon. To say I'm peachy is a bit of an understatement - I love the show so much I would happily enrol in the uni course.

It seems like most major fashion magazines have featured a 1950's/1960's inspired shoot in the last 18 months. But this one featuring Catherine McNeil in Vogue Australia is a show stopper, the styling is a flawless blend of vintage and contemporary references.

I know that there are no rockabilly characters in Mad Men - but I'm sorely tempted to slip into a pencil skirt and prance around with cheeky indifference.

Where are they now?

This made me laugh. A lot.

The Baby Sitters Club: Where are they now?

I was surprised how about much I could recall about the club members and how fondly I still feel about them.

I particularly liked reading the comments section after the post, I too was jealous of Claudia's effortless style. Do you remember her telephone stalker? Yikes, that book freaked me out so much I had to attempt reading it three times. On the third time I skipped to the end, just to find out who the stalker was as the suspense was too much.

It's good to know that Claudia is doing well at the age of 37 and that I can now read a "thriller" cover to cover without developing a nervous tic.

Black Swan

I adore the Ballet. When I was a uni student I took advantage of the cheap season passes and relished in abiding by the sophisticated dress code and social etiquette that comes part in parcel with the majestic surrounds of the Sydney Opera House.

Then there were the actual performances. I would hover at the edge of my seat, muffling my gasps as the dancer's performed astonishing feats with strength, dexterity, flexibility and most importantly - passion. So even the most mundane sounding story of love and loss, blossomed in the hands and feet of the dancers.

I watched Black Swan last night. I'm glad I had a cocktail before watching the film, as it was tense.

Because Portman is such a brillant actor, this was not an enjoyable film. Portman's ability to portray Nina Sayers' physical & mental exhausion and subsequent decline into psychosis was vividly visceral and distressing.

I don't think I will ever look at a nail file the same way again (given that I have that slight phobia of nail clippers, I doubt I will become a nail technician any time soon).

While it wasn't a comfortable viewing experience, I'm glad I saw it. I'm sure it'll take home a swag of awards.

23 on the 23rd

[image via: From me to You]

The night is slipping away. Tick. Tick. Tick.

Tomorrow is the 23rd and I will turn 23. There is a strange romance to simple symmetry.

Debbie

I slept in this morning. I had planned to do a long run, however the day has moseyed along, inching up celsius by celsius. So a late breakfast with the newspapers and dip in the local pool is the new plan.

Debbie Carlos sounds to be a bit more organised on the weekend. She camps, she cooks and takes dreamy photos.

Space

As I shove a tea stained mug aside, narrowly avoid a plethora of paper cuts from a falling stack of papers, stub my toe on the 2008 yellow pages, lose yet another pen in a pile of shoes and smudge my notepad with my sweaty elbow - I crave space....without having to organise my desk. Oh yes I'm feeling lazy.

This would be perfection.

Ships at Night

My sister works random shifts and never has a set schedule. Sometimes it's like we're ships passing in the night, with days slipping by without seeing one another. So when we discovered that we both had the same day off work, we shared conspiring grins.

Like wannabe ladies who lunch, we set off for Bourke Street Bakery.

We didn't need to fill the air with words to enjoy each others company, we just sipped coffee and read. Mish is halfway through the wonderfully addictive "Born To Run" and I'm lapping up "Little Bunch of Madmen: Elements of global reporting".

Afterwards we ambled our way to That Vintage Shop for a stickybeak.

From there we went to May Lane - where the walls, gutters, garage doors and garbage bins are the canvas for the creative.

My observational skills are fairly lackluster at the best of times, I didn't realise to what extent, until I awoke this morning having slept the night on a textbook. My brother had kindly left me a book on photography in my bed as a surprise birthday present.

Ironically lesson one in photography is to open your eyes to the world around you.

VCR

As Australia slowly slides from summer to autumn, the other side of the equator is slowly stripping off their layers.

Built By Wendy has released her Spring 2011 collection and it utterly delightful. It's almost like it could be a montage to VCR by The XX

"And we, live half in the day time

And we, live half at night"

a hint of romance and a touch of sexiness.

Your Beard is Good

My Dad keeps bees as a hobby. I'm terrified of bees, but I love honey. I also love this ring.

Rachel Pfeffer has created many more gems which can be found here.

coffee chair

Symmetry is so pleasing to the eye. This room pleases me greatly.

What tickles my fancy even more, are those comfy armchairs which have been reupholstered in worn vintage coffee bean bags. Hot damn!

Blood Buzz

[image via: modern nostalgic]

I've worked my way through some rip-roaring good reads this past month.

I plan to knuckle down and write some reviews. Unfortunately I keep getting sidetracked by High Violet.

My little friend

I just bought this handsome little i medici firenze leather backpack. I feel the same level excitement as a child starting kindergarden! I want to prance around my living room wearing my backpack whilst my Mum takes photos of me!

That may sound excessive, but this will be my travelling bag - It will carry my water bottle as I explore the ramblas of Barcelona, it will store my camera as I wander through the British Museum with my mouth agape, it will sit in the small of my back as I soak up the Ottoman architecture in Istanbul, it will be slick with my sweat as I swim though the humidity of Malaysia, it will be caked with the red dust of Alice Springs. It will carry me home.